


Statues

by SparkFlipClick



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Bad Sex, Blow Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-08 13:43:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15244668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SparkFlipClick/pseuds/SparkFlipClick
Summary: That old "relieving tension" chestnut, except neither of this pair are very good at unwinding, are they





	Statues

**Author's Note:**

> This is cursed content and I'm sorry but only slightly

They play husband and wife onstage, villain and victim, teacher and student, winner and loser, and whatever else the show calls for. Of course Hokuto’s acting is really quite worthless currently, but he has to gain experience now more than ever, and… in many plays, a foil is ultimately needed. His presence expands Wataru’s repertoire. He throws Wataru’s every action into stark contrast.

The issue arises, first, when they are playing heretic worshipper and god, rehearsing, and Wataru bends just too close to him, runs his hand up Hokuto’s thigh just too slow, whispers his line just loud enough for an audience to hear the fervor in his voice. He’s supposed to be bringing a statue to life with his passion, here, but instead Hokuto freezes up near-comically. They change the staging on that scene.

But it remains now. Wataru feels a stare sometimes, or Hokuto dodges one more step back than is strictly necessary, when Wataru reaches out to pinch his cheek. It’s irritating; time in the Theatre Club is supposed to be dull, even during the dogged work building up to a performance. It’s never supposed to be like _this_ \- air weighed down with awareness, the kind of thing Wataru stays cooped up in here specifically to avoid. He would wait for the whole thing to blow over, but he knows better than to expect Hokuto to forget any idea that gets lodged in his head. And one day he catches Hokuto spying on him while they change for the dress rehearsal.

No, spying is too dishonest a word for Hokuto. Transfixed might be better. He’s still fully clothed, his blazer draped over one arm, and he watches with an expression that can only be described as _consternation_ as Wataru cinches his corset tighter.

“Hokuto-kun, come and tie the laces for me, if you would,” Wataru says, unconcerned. Hokuto blinks and obediently takes the strings from his hands. “And hurry up and get into costume afterward. We haven’t got all the time in the world, you know. Pull tighter than that before you tie the knot, Hokuto-kun, or it will not change my figure, and then what is the point, hm?” He taps his bare foot against the floor, marking his impatience in a four-count.

He taps out fifteen beats in the silence as Hokuto ties the knot. Then: “Buchou, I’m not confident in my performance,” Hokuto blurts out behind him.

“How refreshing to see you’ve reached some modicum of self-awareness.”

“You saw me looking at you just now,” Hokuto continues, ignoring him as usual. ”That was indecent of me and I won’t do it again.”

“It is nothing indecent, Hokuto-kun. Human nature admires human form, and we are not strangers, after all, so it doesn’t perturb me. I have little shame.”

“But I’m sure it’s been affecting my acting. You’re distracting and I can’t relax enough to get into character.”

“Oh? Since when do you _ever_ relax or assume a character anyway?” Wataru glances over his shoulder, amused. Hokuto’s brow is scrunched with frustration. “What do you want me to do about it, then? Shall I abstain from corsetry in the future?”

“I’m not interested in the corset, Buchou.” Hokuto frowns harder, juts out his lip. “It’s true that you can’t do anything. I should have realised. Maybe the only solution is exposure therapy.” He nods seriously. ”I’ll print out some pictures of attractive men and put them up in my room.”

Wataru stifles a laugh. “Well, nobody is stopping you doing that, but I doubt it would help.” It’s good to finally have this out in the open, though, and to know that he’s not the only one who’s troubled about it.  Maybe now something can finally be done. He spins around, letting the corset strings fly loose out of Hokuto’s hands. “However - desensitization - ” He catches Hokuto lightly by the shoulder, lifts his chin with a finger, making him meet his eyes. “Hokuto-kun, how would you feel about me helping you to... relax a bit, hm? We simply need to make all of this feel normal to you, so that it does not distract you, yes?”

There was absolutely no point in making eye contact with Hokuto, apparently, because instead of catching on smoothly Wataru can practically see the gears grinding inside his head as he puts it together. “Buchou are you suggesting we have casual sex.”

Wataru rolls his eyes. “Goodness gracious, Hokuto-kun, I don’t think we should go quite that far. But something of that nature, yes. Touching.”

“Hm. I’d like that.”

“Oh my, what a confident response. Did you even think before speaking, may I ask?”

“Obviously. And well. It’s not like it could make our relationship any _worse_.” Ouch!

“Hit rock bottom, have we? Well then.” He guides Hokuto to sit down next to him on the rickety Theatre Club couch. He stares expectantly. Wataru stares back, trying to figure out how to proceed.

Hokuto fidgets under his gaze. “What should I do?”

“Shhh. You don't need to do anything.” Maybe that’s too difficult a request. Wataru clicks his fingers. ”Actually, you do. Tell me about Talos.” Talos was the role Hokuto was to play.

“Well. He’s a - “ Hokuto stops as Wataru reaches sideways and starts to undo his belt.

“If you want me to stop then say so, Hokuto-kun. Otherwise chop chop, keep talking - I want to hear about how you interpreted the script. What do you keep in mind when you act?”

“Well. He’s not human, he’s a guardian god - no, that’s what he was made to be.” Belt undone, next the trouser zipper, and pulling the briefs down enough to gain access. The friction of that is enough for Hokuto to be hard already. Wataru considers and squeezes some of their moisturiser onto his fingers for caution’s sake.

“He’s more like a. A machine-” Hokuto's voice catches as Wataru begins to stroke him, firm and regular, back and forth. Looking up, Wataru sees his lips parted, his eyes defocused just a little.

“So - I decided to make all his movements deliberate, and he doesn’t look at the other characters much onstage, because he’s only interested in his job,” Hokuto presses on. Wataru continues, a little faster now, squeezing tight with his encircled thumb and forefinger, intending to see how Hokuto’s expression changes.

But instead without warning Hokuto lurches forward, grabbing Wataru’s shoulder for balance, fingernails digging into bare skin. His face is hidden now, Wataru left to stare down at the top of his head. Glossy black hair with a tiny swirl of white scalp. His far leg spasms and kicks out as he pushes into Wataru’s hand. Wataru turns toward him a little more, uses his free arm to pull him close, keep him steady, absently stroking the back of his neck. His forehead comes to rest against Wataru’s shoulder, and Wataru feels hot breath on his skin as Hokuto pants just once and says, loudly, “Buchou, I’m gonna - _ah -_ “ he twitches and comes before Wataru even has time to speed up.

He doesn't pull away after. In fact he seems content to rest against Wataru. He sighs an angsty sigh and says, “I’m dissatisfied I only managed to last such a short time.”

Wataru drums his fingers impatiently against Hokuto's neck. “What are you under the impression this is, some kind of game for prestige?”

“Yes.”

“In any case, it worked its purpose, did it not? You certainly seem more _comfortable_ now than before - although, is it possible you could stop gripping my shoulder like that? I fear you’re going to leave a mark.”

“Right.” Hokuto relaxes his fingers, doesn't let go. “Yeah, I guess it worked. That was definitely different to what I was expecting. I’m pretty sure I can't… get distracted thinking about that.”

“Gosh, what kind of lewd fantasy plays out in the imagination of Hokuto-kun himself? I never thought I would be privy to such secrets!”

“And you won't _ever_ be, Buchou. It’s not like that. Don't make me sound like a pervert like you.” Hokuto sits up at last with a huff and begins to make himself decent, hissing slightly as he pulls his underwear back up over his still-hard dick. Wataru takes the chance to grab a tissue and clean off the stuff which had landed on his thigh.

Hokuto buckles his belt and looks up, with a gaze that would be direct on most people but seems almost shy for him. “I’ll return the favour now.”

Wataru raises an eyebrow. “It’s not as if I lent you lunch money, you know. You don't need to pay me anything back.”

“But you. Look like you need it.”

Hokuto gestures downwards. And yes, Wataru has something of an erection, but it had been a sexual situation, that was to be expected. He shakes his head. “Don’t trouble yourself, Hokuto-kun. I need no help taking care of this kind of thing. I’m perfectly happy for us to continue with rehearsals now.”

“But I’m not - it doesn’t seem fair.” He frowns. ”I really want to.” The sincerity of that statement is probably the most embarrassing part of all of this so far, not that Hokuto knows it, not that Wataru can bring himself to say a word. “It can be the other half of my desensitization. Otherwise I’ll be distracted again.”

“You’re really incredibly stubborn, aren’t you?” Hokuto sits still, this time, as Wataru pinches his cheek, pulls his face into a lopsided smile. He lets go and trails a finger down Hokuto's jawline. “Come on then. Only because I’m feeling generous, dear Hokuto-kun.” Hokuto nods, satisfied. Too used to getting his own way, that boy is. Well, it’s not like Wataru is averse to the idea, if it's him. It might even be… no, this was Hokuto, it wasn't gonna be _fun,_  but still.

Wataru at least helps by taking off his underwear - and - then Hokuto does the indecency, the _sheer indecency_ of spitting on both palms and rubbing them together like he’s warming up on a cold day - Wataru is too mortified to stop him. Hokuto is not so much killing the mood here as completely ignoring the possibility of one ever existing.

Then he sets to work, and oh no. He’s really not good at this. Both hands at once, too fast and too tight, like he’s trying to squeeze out the last bit of toothpaste from its tube through effort alone, and god, that’s an unpleasant metaphor. Wataru tries his best to banish the sterile image of a tube of minty fresh from his mind.

“Hokuto-kun,” he says in an only slightly strangled voice, “Hokuto-kun, a little gentler, if you would.”

“Hm,” Hokuto replies, and readjusts his grip before continuing, marginally better this time, slow enough to hit some good spots, not slow enough to take advantage of them. Some of the fixed, overly concentrated look leaves his face, and he glances at Wataru. “Buchou, how much is this doing for you? Your face is completely blank and you’re not moving.”

“Ah - “ Had the shock of it all really been so much he’d dropped character altogether? Wataru manages a smile. “I’m just getting used to it. You’re doing fine.”

Hokuto frowns and lets go. He leaves his seat and sinks to his knees in front of Wataru, shoves Wataru’s thighs apart with both elbows. Oh boy.

“Hokuto-kun,” he says, and he’d be covering his face with both hands right now if he could, but he settles for sprawling back on the couch and waving an arm languorously, “why are you doing this?”

“Well, I’m just going off of what I’d do to myself. ...What I'd want done, I mean.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Wataru says, carefully keeping control of his reaction as Hokuto starts to stroke him again. He’s sensitive now, after being neglected for just a few seconds, and it’s distracting.

“Then, because I like you and I want you to feel good,” Hokuto answers without thinking, and Wataru can only think of what an idiot he is to go and make this personal.

Then he can't think at all for a second as Hokuto moves forward and takes the tip of him into his mouth and the shock of the heat and wetness feels _good finally_. He tenses up, needing more, but he resists the upward jerk of his hips and keeps himself stone still.

Hokuto repositions his jaw for an agonizingly long time, as good as teasing, before beginning to bob his head up and down slightly, still pumping with his hands along what his mouth can't reach, which is most of it. He interrupts.himself by coming up for air at erratic intervals, seeming shorter of breath each time. The overall effect is - wet, and uncoordinated, and surprisingly quiet, and a little underwhelming compared to what Wataru could achieve on his own.

And yet. And still. He’s trying so hard. Wataru can't get that one fact out of his mind, how the look in Hokuto's eyes is hot with some sort of strange intensity as he continually looks up to see Wataru’s reaction. He can't stop himself flushing red from the scrutiny. The chaotic sensations of attentive mouth and hands and fabric underneath him, the chill of the air, they begin to overlap and pile up, suddenly, as he realises what Hokuto is doing to him, _with_ him

“Hokuto-kun, close your eyes, please,” he manages, a last ditch at self-preservation, “and keep going,” and Hokuto does it without question. Wataru tips his head back and stares at the ceiling, tries not to think about that or about Hokuto, fails - his breath quickens and hitches, as he begins to undeniably feel all this touch as confused coiling pleasure, building and ebbing arrthythmically.

Soon he’s feeling too heady and warm, can't last any longer, not sure what to do - He grips the couch with one hand, reaches down with the other, and pushes Hokuto off him by force. The air is cold on him suddenly, he fumbles and squeezes his fingers tight and fast - this last desperate self-touch and he manages to finish silently into his palm, biting his lip, mind going blissfully blank.

Blank for just a moment; then an idle image of toothpaste dances across his brain and he sighs despairingly.

He’s brought back to reality by Hokuto’s voice. “Why’d you stop me?” he asks, sounding slightly offended, and Wataru looks down to see that yes, he still has his eyes closed, thank god.

Wataru waddles to get a makeup wipe. “I’m finished,” he says, and kneels on the floor beside Hokuto to clean up his sweaty face and smooth down his disarrayed hair with careful fingertips. “Thank you very much. I liked it.”

“You _liked_ it?” Hokuto frowns thunderously. “Don't patronise me right after I gave you a blowjob.”

“Open your eyes, Hokuto-kun, you look like you’re having a nightmare.”

He does. “Buchou, you got so quiet it was scary. When you told me to close my eyes I started to suspect it was set-up for a prank and I’d realise later I’d been sucking a block of wood or something.”

"Rude _,_ Hokuto-kun!” Wataru cries, and flicks him in the face with the clean side of the wipe. He gets another one for himself next. “Would you rather I vocalised my pleasures like this - aa-aaaa-aa _aaahh-Amazingu-_ “

“Stop. To be honest that's not too far off the kind of sound you’d make in everyday conversation.”

“Oh dear. Are you insulting my acting skills?”

“I’m just saying you already have a pervert act going so a perverted noise would sound just as fake. I see your point now... But if it’s you, Buchou, I’m sure you could come up with a different kind of voice to use in intimate situations.”

“And why on earth would I waste my time on that!”

“Fine. But you could have at least warned me when you were going to come instead of - manhandling me like that. You didn't wanna do it into my mouth?”

Wataru gives a disdainful sniff. “Essentially.” It hadn't seemed right to let Hokuto swallow. Which he definitely would have.

Hokuto’s eyes narrow. “Hmm… Could it be… Is even the composition of your bodily fluids different to that of ordinary humans? Do you have some kind of toxic biochemical in your - “

 _"No!_ O, ye of little faith! You’re going to make me _cry_ , Hokuto-kun, of course not!”

“Hm. If you say so. In that case just tell me and I’ll remember not to let it happen next time. ”

Wataru turns to stare at him. “‘Next time’? You’re being terribly demanding, you know?”

Hokuto blinks. “I didn't think that sentence through properly.” The corner of his mouth quirks up. “But sure. If you're still interested.” God, what an irritating boy. Why did he think Wataru had been _interested._

Wataru ignores it and claps his hands. “Let's go back to the rehearsal, shall we?”

“Already? I’m tired now.”

“And I am not! Come on, Hokuto-kun. Build up your stamina, more and more! You are fully warmed up, and now let us proceed to the main event - rise and perform! For the world, dear Hokuto-kun!” He grabs Hokuto by the ear and pulls him to his feet. Hokuto gives him a death stare in return and goes to change. How heartwarming.

“I want to see you at your most limber now after all that _relaxation_ ,” Wataru calls over his shoulder as he shakes out his dress. “See if you can do the splits on stage!”

“Hmpf. You can't trick me into breaking character that easily, Buchou.”

“Didn't you know? Talos’ creators gave him a secret dancing instinct in the original work. It would help create a better picture of your character.”

“No they didn't. I don't believe you.”

“Are you sure? I can go find you the articles I read on the topic, you know?”

Hokuto looks right on the verge of being convinced. Wataru considers spraying him with water in situations like this, like one might a cat. He just needs to find a bottle he can hide up his sleeve… but for now, perhaps he’ll see if Hokuto really can do the splits onstage.

**Author's Note:**

> Sponsored by Colgate extra whitening.


End file.
